


Superman vs. The Drabble Monster

by Dolimir



Category: Smallville
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-22
Updated: 2011-06-22
Packaged: 2017-10-20 15:37:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 50
Words: 13,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/214296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dolimir/pseuds/Dolimir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabbles, dodecals, small pieces of fic that don't fit anywhere else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Forgiveness (Clex - Humor)

“Lex.” Clark tried hard to keep the whine out of his voice, but knew he was failing miserably. “Lex, come on. How many more times do I have to say I’m sorry?”

Eyes as cold as the upper balcony of the Fortress locked on his and Clark involuntarily took a step back. He swallowed hard and attempted a small smile, but felt it wither under the unblinking gaze.

“I didn’t mean to do it.

Lex sniffed disdainfully.

“You can’t even see where I…” Clark stuttered to a stop under Lex’s hardening stare.

“You know, you could consider it a compliment.”

One eyebrow rose in elegant disbelief.

“Well, you should have no doubt about how I feel about you now.”

Lex snorted, but said nothing.

Clark moved around Lex’s desk and dropped to his knees beside the leather chair. “Please forgive me.”

Lex refused to look at him, so Clark turned the chair, giving him no choice. Lex’s face remained set in stone. Clark gently pulled Lex’s knees apart and gently rubbed the inseam of Lex’s very expensive pants with his thumbs.

“Forgive me.”

“The last time we were in this position you set my pants on fire.”

Clark wagged his eyebrows, looking unrepentant.

“They were hand sewn. From Italy.”

While Lex’s voice was still indignant, Clark knew the mere fact that Lex was speaking meant his anger was waning.

“I’ll fly you to Italy tomorrow. We’ll have them replaced before lunch.”

“You set my crotch on fire, Clark.”

“I told you I couldn’t wait any longer.”

“You’re not trying to shift the blame--”

“No, of course not.” Clark’s hands rubbed higher up Lex’s thigh. “It’s just that you look so delectable and I…”

“Okay.”

“Okay, what?”

“I forgive you.”

“You do?”

“On one condition.”

“Name it.”

“That you finish what you started last night.”

“Only if you promise not to take any more calls.”

“It was im--”

“Ah. Ah.”

“Oh. All right.” Lex cupped Clark’s cheek affectionately. “This forgiveness business is hard work.”

“Not if we do it right, Lex. Not if we do it right.”


	2. Same Time Next Week (Clex) 3rd Person POV

“Hey, Mrs. Hudson.”

I look up from my recipe and find Clark Kent grinning from ear to ear and holding up a crate of vegetables. A quick glance at the clock tells me it is exactly four o’clock. The boy has never been so much as a minute late.

“Where do you want them?”

I point to the island in the middle of the kitchen. “If you’d be so kind.”

I have exactly one minute and thirty-five seconds before Mr. Luthor appears, looking for all the world like he’s just passing through, when he and I both know that he never comes into the kitchen except for when young master Clark is here.

“Same order for next week?”

“Yes, but I’d like to have an extra bushel of tomatoes as well. We’re having a dinner party next week and I’m going to make a marinara sauce from scratch.”

“Do you want some extra onions and garlic as well?”

I consider for a moment. “Such a salesman you are, Mr. Kent. Sure, why not? You might as well throw in a half dozen of each.”

“Cool.”

I watch as Clark’s gaze slides expectantly toward the door leading to the main hallway. It’s all I can do not to snicker. Silly boy doesn’t realize he still has forty-five seconds to wait. You’d think he’d have caught on after all these months, but apparently he hasn’t.

I move to the pantry and pull out a plate of my oatmeal raisin cookies and place them on the tray I pulled out earlier. Martha Kent may make the best muffins and pies in the county, but no one, and I mean no one, can beat my cookies. Clark fidgets in anticipation, but whether it’s for Lex’s appearance or my cookies is hard to say.

I put a large glass of milk and a dignified cup of coffee on the tray. I’ve just managed to put the pot back on the burner when the door behind us opens. I don’t have to look at the clock to know Mr. Luthor’s is exactly on time.

“Clark, what are you doing here?”

“Hey, Lex. I’m just dropping off Mrs. Hudson’s weekly vegetable order.”

“Do you have any more deliveries to make tonight?”

“Nope, you’re my last.”

“Well, I’m dying to take a break. Are you up for a game of pool?”

“Well, just a short game. Mom wants me home by dinner.” I mouth the words along with Clark before I pick up the tray and hand it to him.

Clark gives me a blinding smile, then obediently follows Lex, treats in hand.

I shake my head affectionately. They’re both so predictable, but it’s cute. It truly is. You’d think one of them would catch a clue, but neither of them has. Not that I’m complaining. I got to make my fun where I can.


	3. Cold (Clex, sort of)

Being hairless meant he chilled easier than most people as he didn’t have any sort of natural barrier protecting him from the elements. The winter after the meteor shower had been particularly difficult and there had been several evenings when Lex was sure he’d never feel warm again. He knew better than to complain, knew that Lionel would berate any request to turn up the heat as selfishness on his part, of not caring about the environment or people less fortunate than himself, although they both knew Lionel could care less about people shivering in their own homes. It took practice but after the first few weeks of winter he could speak without his teeth chattering.

When he was going through his rebellious period as a teenager, Lionel had ‘accidentally’ locked him out of the house in Montana during a blizzard. Lex knew immediately that his father was expecting him to bang on the door and make a scene, was counting on it, probably had even mentally outlined his speech about how much of a disappointment Lex had been to him.

Lex, however, was used to playing chess with his father, so walked to the gazebo and waited. After an hour, he lost all sense of feeling which made staying the course easier. When Lionel finally sent the staff out to gather him, the expected lecture had not come. Instead his father looked at him with something indescribable in his eye. “Well played, son.” By morning, Lionel was in Rio De Janeiro and Lex spent two weeks being treated by the family doctor.

Looking around at the ice walls surrounding him, Lex’s mind told him he should be cold, that the fur-like blankets around him were not enough to keep him warm. And perhaps they weren’t. Maybe it had something to do with the dark-haired man slowly crawling over his body, with a heat in his eyes that made Lex shiver, but not with cold.

Large, farm boy hands pawed possessively at him and Lex knew he’d never be cold again.


	4. Redemption (Lex, Clark)

Lex wiped off the blood trickling down his chin with the back of his hand as he used the other hand to push himself off his knees and into a standing position.

“Is that the best you have, Superman?” Lex sneered. “I must say, I’m disappointed. I thought you were known for your tranquility under fire.”

Clark felt his hands clench at the sight of Lex’s curled lip, the urge to hit him again almost overwhelming him.

“I take it this isn’t what you expected? What would you think would happen? That I’d beg for forgiveness? Promise to be a good boy?”

Clark shook his head, fighting the urge to take a step backward as Lex closed the gap between them.

“Then what? Tell me what you want, Kal-El?”

Clark dropped to his knees, startling his nemesis.

“What do you want, Clark?” Lex whispered.

“Redemption,” Clark answered just as softly.

Lex wrapped his arms around Clark’s head and held it gently to his stomach. “You have it.”

“Just like that?”

“Yes.”

“But…”

“All you had to do was ask, Clark. All you had to do was ask.”


	5. Illusions (Lex)

Lex’s sheets were made in Egypt and possessed the highest thread count money could buy. Art, whether it be paintings or statues, decorated every room of every house his parents had ever owned. He was eleven before he had ever eaten anything as mundane as a hot dog. And over the years, he learned to refuse to drink scotch less than twenty-five years old.

He had graced the cover of more magazines than the biggest bad boy in Hollywood. Men and women alike fawned over him, treating him like American royalty. Being a Luthor meant not settling for anything less than the best.

And yet it was a cold existence. Being wealthier than Midas didn’t mean that children didn’t make fun of his baldness, it just meant they teased him using larger words than children attending public schools.

Because of his unusual looks, the press hounded him day and night and he lived in constant fear he would do something which would shame his father. That is, until he did everything in his power to shame him. The press noticed him. The world noticed him. But not Lionel. Not ever Lionel.

He was finally beginning to accept the mantle of his childhood, when he was befriended by the most unlikely of people. One Clark Kent by name. The son of a farmer. The son of a dirt poor Kansas farmer. And for a time he reveled in that friendship, in the warmth of someone caring about him for who he was and not whose son he was.

But as time passed, he discovered that friendship was just an illusion used to control others. And so he set aside his last act of rebellion and embraced the future his father had so diligently prepared for him. To conquer. To rule. To reign.


	6. Drowning (Clark)

He can see for miles, yet knows he misses the most obvious things happening in front of him. The teasing whispers of friends are often obscured by the screams of the helpless counties away. While he touches people everyday, he longs to be touched – kindly and with meaning.

His encounters with Lex are always fraught with such emotional undercurrents; he suspected he might someday drown. He knows Lex is aware of his alter ego, knows Lex has the means to destroy him, but he never does. While its not the relationship Clark dreams about, it is one he cherishes none-the-less.


	7. Not Quite Perfect (Chloe/Lex)

Lex stepped into his foyer, late for his two o’clock appointment, and found Chloe frowning at the lavish, but tastefully decorated tree.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s tilted. To the left.”

“You mean like my politics?”

“Come here.” She grabbed his elbow and guided him to the spot where she had been standing. “See.”

She was right; however, when he took a step to the right or the left, the tree appeared to be perfect. In fact, from any other angle it seemed flawless.

“Optical illusion?”

“I don’t know.”

“The ornaments look well spaced.”

“I know.”

“Then what?”

Chloe shrugged. “I just want everything to be perfect.”

“It is perfect.”

“No, it’s--”

Lex laid a finger over her lips. “It’s perfect, just like you.”

“Perfect, except at a certain angle.”

Lex kissed her because he liked seeing her torn between wanting more and needing to put her concerns into words.

“Lex!” She gasped as she took a step back. “You know that everyone’s waiting for me to go off the deep end. I need them to understand that we are forever.”

“Chloe, I don’t care what the rest of the world thinks. The Christmas tree is perfect. You’re not going to try to find a creative way to kill me and I’m very late to my meeting.” He kissed her again, even as he moved toward the elevator.

“You know, I bet I could find a creative way to do you in,” she called after him.

The elevator doors opened and Lex stepped inside. “You could, but you won’t.”

“And just why is that, Mr. Luthor? For the record.”

“Because you love me, Mrs. Luthor.” He pushed the button to his office and grinned at her.

“Lucky for you.” She grinned back at him.

And as the doors slid shut, Lex knew he was indeed lucky.


	8. 'Tis The Season (Clex)

There was a time when Lex hated all the false schmoozing that went on during the Christmas season: the mandatory meet and greets, the endless parties, the having to listen to vendors as they glad-handed him, but ever since Clark had made himself a permanent fixture in Lex’s life he was finding he didn’t mind the social obligations so much. Oh, not because the events were any more palatable with Clark at his side. But because he discovered that Clark was incredibly possessive. If he so much as smiled too long at any particular individual, Clark found a reason to drag him onto the balcony or into the nearest closet. Being well snogged, as his British friends put it, made these events go by ever so much quicker.

And if for some reason, the opportunity to slip away didn’t present itself during the event itself, Clark would spend the rest of the night marking his territory, never letting Lex forget what it meant to be bonded to a Kryptonian.

Lex stretched, reveling in his body’s soreness, and wondered who from the night before had set off Clark’s possessiveness. The thoroughness of his possession was something he could definitely repeat. He looked at the calendar. There were only six more days until Christmas. If he was lucky he could stretch the season out until January first, giving him an additional six days. He needed to make the most of the time he had left.

He yawned and stretched, giving him an excuse to run his hands over Clark’s abdomen. When Clark arched into his touch, he decided to play a hunch. “So what did you think of last night’s band?”

Clark frowned, rolling Lex under him so quickly that Lex barely had a chance to catch his breath.

Bingo, Lex thought with a huff of satisfaction. Merry Christmas to me.


	9. 2012 (Lex)

Even the gentlest of rains had the power to wash away previous dirt and leave nothing but a clean slate in its wake.

Lex mused that the world’s superheroes weren’t going to be thrilled to discover that he was still alive, but considering his ships, unlike the government arks, were the only ones accepting survivors, he figured they’d quickly get over their prejudices.

He had to confess he always thought the world would end with a bang and not with such a wet whimper, but he also had to admit that he was looking forward to starting his life over.


	10. Full Moon (Clex)

“On a hot summer night, beneath the full moon, would you offer your throat to the wolf?”

Arching beneath his husband, Lex moaned. “Yes.”

“Would you offer him your mouth?”

Lex opened his mouth to Clark’s questing lips.

“Would you offer him your jaws?”

“Yes.” Lex undulated beneath him.

“Would you offer him your hunger?”

“Ye-sss.”

“You do realize he’d starve without you?”

“Yes.”

“So why do you let the wolf come?”

Lex locked his gaze with Clark’s. “Because I love him.”

Clark growled. “Again, why do you let the wolf come?”

Shuddering his release, Lex whispered, “Because I love him.”


	11. Quorum (Chloe, Clark)

Lying on the ratty, but comfortable couch in Clark’s Fortress of Solitude, Chloe lost herself in the multitude of stars above her and wondered, not for the first time, where her life was heading. When she was younger, all she ever dreamed about was becoming a prize-winning journalist. After high school, while that desire never truly diminished, there was a brief period of time when all she wanted was to be able to maintain her sanity.

She always believed that she was destined to affect change. She still held that belief, but now it had morphed into something else, something bigger, something completely unexpected. Instead of working as a lone wolf, she had a chance to be part of a team. And not just any team, but the team every kid would grow up wanting to be a part of. While it was true she would be an anonymous part of the team, she found herself truly not caring whether people knew about her accomplishments or not; not when she could be responsible for helping to save hundreds, perhaps thousands of lives.

“We’ve reached a quorum.”

Chloe struggled to refocus her thoughts as she blinked at Clark, who was now sitting on the couch by her feet.

“I thought all votes had to be unanimous.”

He grinned goofily at her. “They do. Quorum just sounds more official.”

“And?” Although she really didn’t need to ask; the smile on Clark’s face told her the results of the vote.

“Welcome to the Justice League, Chloe.”


	12. Remorse (Clark, Chloe, romantic)

She doesn’t remember him.

Jor-El had taken too much of her memory; and for a while, Clark had been okay with that fact. But she had been such a constant presence in his life for so long that he didn’t know how to live without her anymore. He knew he was guilty of having taken her for granted. She had always stood by his side, a steady friend and confidant, even when he romantically pursued others. He always told himself that their relationship wasn’t romantic, that he didn’t see her that way. But now, he wondered how he could have been so blind.

She had broken off her relationship with Jimmy. Clark still wasn’t sure why.

She now worked in Gotham, at the help desk of the main library, researching whatever odd question people threw her way.

Clark wrestled for months over whether or not he had any right to step back into her life. He knew his presence would potentially put her back in harm’s way. Just as he knew his wanting her back in his life was pure selfishness on his part. Selfishness was not an emotion he normally dealt with. He was too used to letting go of an idea, a dream, knowing in the long run it would be better off for all concerned. But no matter how hard he tried to convince himself that she would be better off without him, he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

Girding his mental loins, he took a deep breath and entered the library, walking unerringly toward the back corner where her desk was. He had spent over an hour carefully choosing what he would wear. There would be no flannel. Instead, he was wearing a dark blue suit that used to make her ‘rawr’ at him whenever he wore it. He also sparingly used a cologne that Lex had given him for his birthday several years before. It was subtle, but effective if his neighbor’s reaction had been any indication.

She was happily tapping away at her computer when he approached, and the sight made him smile. Some things never changed.

He also felt a warm glow when her eyes briefly met his, then went back to her screen, only to snap back to his. Her gaze slowly took him in and even though she didn’t say it, he knew she was mentally ‘rawring’ at him.

“May I…” she started, then stopped and cleared her throat when her voice came out too high. “How may I assist you?”

“Are you Chloe Sullivan?”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “I am.”

“My name is Clark Kent. I’m a reporter for the Daily Planet. And I’ve been told there isn’t anything you can’t find once you put your mind to it.”

She blushed slightly, but then her eyebrows crinkled slightly. “Isn’t the Planet…”

“In Metropolis. Yes. But I’m here doing a story and don’t have my normal people to tap. I was hoping I could tap you.”

The smile she graced him with was brilliant and slightly naughty, and he realized what he had just implied. “Um…”

Laughter bubbled out of her, making him grin foolishly.

“What can I help you with?”

“My understanding is that the county recorders office keeps some of its older records here.”

She nodded. “Their space is at a premium. We have all inactive property files and everything pre-1920.”

“I’m told there is a survey blueprint for this address.” He handed her a small piece of paper.

She took it, then typed several things into the computer. Something popped up on the screen and she nodded in satisfaction as she wrote down a series of numbers. “Why don’t you follow me? Our layout is a little confusing if you haven’t ever been here before.”

He obediently followed her down a row of stacks, which seemed to twist and turn with no rhyme or reason. Clark amused himself by watching the gentle sway of her hips as she moved.

With no warning, she stopped and snagged a small stool at the end of a shelf. She climbed and unerringly pulled a tube out of a seeming myriad of tubes. Her face was triumphant as she turned to hand him the tube, but stopped when she realized how close he was standing to her.

“Your…t-t-tube.” While her words were whispered, her gaze never broke from hers.

“Thank you,” he said in the same quiet tone.

“Do I know you?”

With her free hand, she gently cupped his cheek, searching his eyes, but he found he couldn’t speak. Her thumb ghosted over his bottom lip and he groaned, his desire for her nearly choking him.

She dropped the tube and brought her other hand up to his face. “Do you believe in kismet?”

“Chloe, please.”

He started to tremble as she leaned slightly forward and brushed her lips tenderly over his. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he hauled her off the stool, deepening their kiss, their tongues exploring the sweetness of each other’s mouths.

After a few moments, he became aware that she was smiling. Reluctantly, he pulled his head back in order to look at her face.

“I like the way you tap.” She graced him with a naughty grin.

“Dinner,” he managed to get out before having to clear his throat.

“To discuss further tappage?”

He set her on his feet as gently as possible, but couldn’t resist the urge to take her chin in his hand. “Yes.” He kissed her again and delighted in the way she melted against him.

While the future wasn’t set, he knew it was definitely looking brighter.


	13. Obsession (Clark)

For years Clark had heard rumors of a vigilante so sophisticated that corporate criminals didn’t even realize they’d been caught until the police showed up on their doorsteps with subpoenas.

After he’d exposed Oliver as the man behind Lex’s murder, the vigilante dismantled Queen Industries piece by piece and distributed the wealth amongst the Suicide Slum populace, completely revitalizing the area. The Planet hailed him as a modern day Robin Hood.

Clark tried everything he could to gain an audience with the man, but was always denied. Every lead dead-ended, every data stream dried up.

And finally, Clark understood obsession.


	14. Strands of a Plan (Clark)

  
[   
](http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v11/Dolimir/?action=view&current=Strands.jpg)   


 

Clark watched the grey spider diligently spin her web in the corner of the barn loft. Winter was coming soon and it was only a matter of time before they had their first hard frost. The spider’s days were numbered and they both knew it. Sort of like how his days as being counted as one of Lex’s friends were also numbered.

Looking back over his life, Clark understood why his parents had lied and misdirected so much. In fact, he appreciated their effort. If the government had ever learned about his abilities…

His parents, though, had spent so much time protecting his secret that they didn’t know how to stop. He knew they all felt a certain relief in being able to talk freely to Pete, and even Chloe. It wasn’t until it was too late that they realized the amount of pressure they had put on Pete. His parents were much more careful with Chloe.

Looking back, Clark could see how he had become entangled in his own web of lies. There was a time when he knew Lex would have killed to protect him, but that time was long past.

Jonathan constantly pointed out all the lies Lex told, but Clark had to wonder if it was a chicken or the egg sort of thing – who told the first lie. Now all he could do was wait for the frost to finish them off.

But as he watched the little spider, he also noticed how the night’s dew clung to the web and gave her water; how she didn’t have to leave her nest for necessities.

Perhaps there was still a way for him and Lex to gain strength from each other. Perhaps together they could weather the winter together.

Clark leaned back on his couch and started weaving his own plan.


	15. A Place, At Last (Chloe)

[ ](http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v11/Dolimir/?action=view&current=aplace-slodwich.jpg)

The stories this desk could tell. Chloe Sullivan smiled as she lazily ran her fingers back and forth over the ancient walnut desktop. She made a small mental note to leave all kryptonite at home, just on the off chance she might accidentally make the desk talkative. While it sounded cool in theory, living in Smallville had taught her that things often sounded cooler than they actually were.

A small snicker escaped her, but she sobered quickly.

She had done it.

She was actually working at the Daily Planet. No one had paved the way for her, using their money or influence. She had finally earned her place, as she had always intended upon doing. Soon she would be reporting real news, news that mattered. No longer would she be known as the girl with the meteor obsession, but a crusader for truth.

She had learned hard lessons on her path to this place, but she had learned important ones as well. She would never again compromise her integrity nor would she be intimidated from pursuing the truth. She had learned that the public’s right to know did not mean an individual should be stripped bare for the world to poke and prod, and that it was okay for some things to remain secret as long as those secrets didn’t hurt anyone.

Like Clark, she had a destiny. Together or separate they would help make the world a better place.


	16. Gift Ideas (Clex)

Clark rolled over and entangled his legs with Lex’s. “So what do you want for Christmas this year?”

“Fiji.”

“That’s what you said last year.”

Lex raised an eyebrow, trying for haughty, but failing miserably. “And did you get it for me?”

Clark rocked closer and teasingly bit Lex’s shoulder. “It was a little more than my reporter salary could handle.”

“Excuses. Excuses.” Lex ran his fingers through Clark’s thick dark hair and pulled his head back until Clark’s neck lay exposed. Purring, he slowly explored the bare skin. “I did enjoy your alternative, though.”

“My Fiji fire dance?”

“Yes.” Lex’s growl made Clark arch for more contact.

“Care for a repeat performance?” He gasped as he felt Lex’s teeth skim his skin.

“Yes.”

Clark allowed himself to be pushed onto his back while Lex continued his journey down Clark’s chest.

Who said coming up with gift ideas for billionaires was hard?


	17. The Storm

One of the disadvantages of living in LexCorp Tower, the tallest building in Metropolis, was that it was so close to the clouds. Standing on the balcony on a sunny day with nothing filling the sky but puffy clouds, one could almost believe they were standing on the top of Mount Olympus; but stormy evenings often felt like being on the beach of Normandy during D-Day. While the staff scurried to lower floors, Lex found comfort amidst the chaos and sat in the dark in his favorite leather chair as if daring the gods to punish him for having the gall to be in their midst.

Lightening filled the sky and outlined a muscular figure standing on his balcony. The intruder didn’t so much surprise Lex as the identity he had chosen.

Clark had forgone his normal skin-tight outfit for jeans and flannel. He stood, feet braced apart, like Thor preparing to do battle. Lex’s breath caught as the sky brightened again and he noticed that the rain had lengthened and curled Clark’s normally combed hair, giving him a feral look.

When the sky flashed again, Lex noticed how the wet t-shirt clung to Clark’s unrelenting muscles and how the hands looked ready to do battle.

Lex bit his lower lip and Clark swayed ever so slightly toward the sliding glass door. Even though Lex couldn’t see Clark’s eyes he knew they were searing him with their intensity.

Swallowing hard, he pushed himself out of the chair, slightly surprised that his trembling legs could support his weight at all.

Clark leaned forward as if willing Lex closer. Feeling weak, yet more powerful than he ever had before, Lex unbuttoned the sleeves of his shirt. Clark’s open hand slammed against the door’s glass, yet it held.

Encouraged by the reaction, Lex took his time unbuttoning the remaining buttons, trembling as Clark’s second hand slammed against the window. When the lightning came again in a sustained burst, he could feel Clark’s hunger - could physically feel his need. His own body reacted with a strength that surprised him.

When he hesitated by the door, Clark’s growl was audible over the raging storm.

To open the door would be to lose himself in the chaos of emotions warring with the storm, but to deny the siren call was unthinkable. He ran his index finger down the middle of his chest and the glass groaned under the pressure. Lex unbuckled his belt even as he heard the window start to cackle and creak.

His hand caressed the doorknob and Clark’s wave of desire washed over him, leaving him in pain with his own yearning. Sliding open the door, he felt the warm rain caress him for a second before Clark was on him and they were in the middle of the storm.


	18. A Christmas Question (Clark, Lex)

“So, are there any other questions?”

Lex looked over the sea of reporters, holding up their hands in an attempt to make them selves seen, but he ignored them. “Yes, Mr. Kent.”

It was all he could do not to laugh at Clark’s startled look. Lex had pointedly ignored him at press conferences for years; so much so that he knew the other reporters openly questioned why he even attended LexCorp press conferences anymore. He tried to ignore Lois Lane too, but when she wanted answers she just used her voice to intimidate and overpower those around her.

“Did you have a question?” Lex assumed an interested, but amused pose, while wondering which project the team of Lane and Kent was going to investigate next.

“What are you doing for the holidays?”

Lex blinked once in surprise while the reporters tittered with amusement.

“I wasn’t aware you had taken over Ms. Grant’s beat, Mr. Kent.”

Clark blushed, but his green eyes never left Lex’s. “I’m not. I was just curious.”

“I’ll be celebrating in Metropolis this year.” Looking around the crowd, he picked out another reporter. “Yes, Ms. Adams.”

The question and answer session continued as expected. But as Lex rode the elevator to the penthouse, he couldn’t get Clark’s question out of his head.

“Why would Clark ask such a question? Better yet, why had he called on Clark in the first place?

“No interruptions,” he barked at his head secretary. He walked straight into his office, ignoring the usual clamoring for his attention from the junior secretaries and closed the door behind him.

He wasn’t really surprised to find Clark standing in the middle of his office. For a brief moment, he allowed himself the luxury of letting his eyes drink in the sight before him. Clark blushed again, which amused Lex to no end.

“You have a follow up question.”

“No. I mean, yes.”

“Which is it, Clark?”

“It’s yes.”

Lex raised an expectant eyebrow.

“Why did you call on me?”

“Weren’t you attending the press conference in your capacity as a reporter?”

“Yes, but my hand wasn’t up.”

“So?”

“SodoyouwanttohaveChristmasdinnerwithme?”

“I beg your pardon.”

Clark fidgeted nervously. “I just thought…”

“Because I called on you?”

“It’s Christmas.”

Lex closed his eyes. There were so many reasons why he should call security and have Kent removed, not the least of which was his antagonistic relationship with Clark’s alter ego. “What time?”

“Six!” Clark practically shouted.

“You still live in that hovel over on--”

“Yes.”

“Should I bring something?”

“Just yourself.”

For several moments they both stared at each other and shook their heads.

Well, Lex thought, Christmas was supposed to be the season of miracles.


	19. This Time

Between the human interest stories and the stories about greed and man’s inhumanity to man, the holiday season in the bullpen at the Daily Planet was chaotic. Holiday music played gaily in the background while staff members shouted back and forth instead of using the intercoms. Friends, family, informants, vendors and the general public wandered in and out, spreading good cheer and adding to the general cacophony of sound.

Clark loved it all. It was the one time of the year when he felt a part of humanity instead of being isolated from it.

Coming back from lunch, he dropped off Lois’ cappuccino before he plopped down at his own desk. He looked for a clean spot to put his Styrofoam cup and that’s when he saw the tiny cherry red 4x4 Jimmy Matchbox truck sitting next to his phone.

Later, when he replayed the events in his head, he was amazed to realize that he knew instantly who sent the truck. It never dawned on him that it could be a gag gift from Jimmy or Lois or even Perry. He knew, beyond a shadow of doubt that it was from Lex.

Clark picked up the truck and held it tenderly in the palm of his hand while he studied it. Lex was apparently testing the waters after nearly a decade of silence.

This time there would be no one to force him to return the truck. This time he would accept the gift and see where the path took him.


	20. Word Association (Clark/Chloe)

“So, first word, huh?” Clark made a big production about thinking over Chloe’s demand to play a word game with her as they walked toward the campus coffeehouse.

“It’s that or listen to me complain about the cold.”

“Admit it; you just want to try out the latest theory from your pop psychology class.”

She grinned unrepentantly. “Maybe.”

“I’ll skew your results.”

She looked at him like he was crazy.

“You know the whole alien thing.”

“It’s so cold out here,” she whined playfully.

“No. No. Anything but that.” He shrugged his acquiescence, knowing she knew that he could deny her nothing.

“Great.” She did a little two-step dance of joy, which made Clark laugh. “Okay. Holly.”

“Boughs.”

“Reindeer.”

“Rudolph.”

“Sleigh.”

“Bells.”

“Stockings.”

“Stuffers.”

“Stars.”

“Krypton.”

“Fair enough. Snowmen.”

He frowned a little. “Melt.”

“Aw.”

“Aw?”

“That’s so cute.”

“Dying snowmen are not cute,” he said with mock indignation.

Chloe laughed as she opened to the door to the coffee shop. “Mistletoe.”

“Kissing.”

“No, Clark.” She pointed at the small ball hanging over the door. “Mistletoe.”

“Oh.”

She grinned at him, but he could see the wistfulness in her eyes. Moving without thought, he leaned forward and kissed her gently. “I may be an alien,” he whispered over her lips, “But aren’t both people supposed to kiss?”

“Clark.”

“Chloe.”

“I…”

“Kiss me, Chloe.”

Although he could see the unasked questions in her eyes, she closed the space between them and kissed him until the clerks behind the counter started to clap.

“Merry Christmas, Chloe.”

She blinked at him, but grinned. “Merry Christmas, Clark.”


	21. Okay (Clex)

Lex leaned against the back of the elevator and let his eyes drift close. The next time one of his advisors said ‘personal touch’ with regards to closing a deal, he would have them shot. Of course, he’d have to do it while Clark was in class, but he would most definitely shoot someone. Flying to Japan and back within forty-eight hours, even if he was using his own corporate jet, should be considered torture under the Geneva Convention guidelines.

The soft ding announced his arrival at the penthouse. While he was normally fastidious in his personal habits, he let his briefcase drop the moment he stepped off the elevator.

Scotch. He definitely needed scotch.

He moved toward the bar, tossing his thousand dollar tie to the floor, along with his suit jacket.

“Hey, L-” Clark looked up from his history text. “Whoa. What does the other guy look like?”

Lex attempted a smile, but felt like he did little more than flash his teeth at Clark.

Before he could reach the alcohol, Clark was at his side, guiding him toward his bedroom.

“Scotch,” he protested.

“Um. No.”

Lex’s brain sent signals to his feet to turn around, but apparently his feet weren’t listening.

Once they reached the bedroom, Clark led him into the bathroom. Once Lex was stable against the bathroom counter, he moved quickly toward the walk-in shower and turned on the water. Lex had to admit that a shower did sound nice, but he couldn’t find it within himself to move.

Gentle hands removed his shoes and the remainder of his clothes.

“You should let me put you on the staff.” Warm water cascaded over him, yet he had no memory of moving into it.

“No.” Clark’s voice was filled with gentle amusement.

“Why not?”

“You can’t afford me.”

“Clark, I’m the richest man in America.”

“And your point is?”

Lex shrugged. “Marry me then.”

There was a slight pause. “Okay.”

Lex opened his eyes and met Clark’s gaze through the glass door. “Yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Now?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

And it was.


	22. Farm Boys Are Easy (Clex)

“Clark.”

“Hmmm?”

“Turn over.”

A non-committal hum was the only response Lex received. Not that he could blame Clark. After all, leading a double life was exhausting. Vacationing in Fiji was just what the doctor had ordered.

While Lex was aware that Kryptonians were solar powered, much like house cats, appearances did have to be maintained; and everyone knew that if you laid on one side for too long, you burned. If Clark didn’t burn, which he wouldn’t, people might start asking questions that would make Lex nervous and when he was nervous he did things he had to hide from Clark, and that always caused all sort of problems.

“Come on, Clark. Be a good little superhero and roll over.”

“Why?” came the petulant response.

“Because I’m tired of looking at your ass.”

One green eye opened slowly and pierced him with an indignant glare.

“Besides, the other side has much more interesting terrain.”

“You didn’t think so last night.”

Lex grinned over the memory. “True, but that was ten hours ago.”

Clark turned over slowly, raising his right arm over his head so that his chest muscles rippled.

Lex swallowed hard. “Perhaps we should get out of the sun altogether.”

An eyebrow rose slowly. “Care to make it worth my while?”

Lex grinned predatorily. “Come on, farm boy. Let me show you something even you don’t know about.”


	23. One Way Or Another (Lex)

Lex had never given much thought to reincarnation, but as he watched the sun set over the Metropolis skyline while he sipped his sinfully expensive scotch, he wondered if he ought to learn more about the basics. He couldn’t figure out if he had been a really good or an extremely bad person in his previous life. In his present incarnation, he was richer than Midas, but he had no one he truly trusted. He was blessed with brains and a healing factor that defied description, but pathetic sycophants and paparazzi surrounded him.

So, was he a good man being tempted with excess before he attained nirvana or was he a bad man given the tools and a chance to reform?

Lex had no illusions about his current life. In no context could he be considered good. Oh, he did good things, even great things, but not for the right cosmic reasons. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to do good anymore.

There was a time when he cared, when he had cared very much; but the reason why he cared was also the reason his once newly awakened conscience had been damaged beyond repair.

Of course, there was a certain freedom in being able to do anything he wanted with little or no repercussions. His biggest obstacle was, of course, the very reason he was sitting where he was now. While he knew he should probably hate Clark, he found he couldn’t. In fact, he rather enjoyed their continuous battle of wills and intellects.

One way or the other, Clark would walk by his side through history. If it couldn’t be as friends, then mortal enemies would suit him just fine.


	24. Could Have Beens (Clark, Lex)

Digging his fingernails into the palm of his hand, Lex stood silently next to the grave of his wife. If only he hadn’t dropped out of the senatorial race, he would have had the resources to save her. But then again, if he hadn’t conceded he probably wouldn’t have become the man he was – a man Lana had been proud to call husband. Not that it mattered now. Not that anything mattered now.

“Lex?”

He looked up to find Clark standing by his side.

“I need to take you home.”

“Home?”

“Alexander and Lilly need you.”

Lex heard what Clark was saying, but the words sounded foreign. His life was over. What more was there to do?

“Lex.”

Looking up, he focused once again on Clark.

“Let me help you.”

“Help me?”

“Yes. Let me walk by your side while you find your path again.”

“Walk beside? You would do that for me?”

“Yes, Lex, I would.”

While the clouds were still dark, Lex thought he sensed a patch of blue sky in his near future.


	25. The Theory of Temptation (Lex)

When Lex was eleven, he and Pamela had at least one esoteric conversation a day, often two or three if it was summer and his parents were gone. No subject was out of bounds or taboo, no speculation was deemed too crazy or inappropriate.

He particularly remembers a discussion they had one evening after coming home from mass. While his parents weren’t Catholic, they didn’t seem to have any objections to letting Pamela take Lex with her when she went.

Sitting in the back of the limousine, Lex asked Pamela what she thought the devil looked like. She surprised him by saying that he was in all likelihood a very handsome man. When he asked her to explain, she countered by asking him which he would rather eat: a rice cake or a piece of chocolate cake with whipped frosting. Her simple answer opened his eyes in a whole new way.

Lex then began to wonder if he’d be strong enough to eat the rice cakes in the face of chocolate cake? When he was exiled to Kansas, he discovered the answer was ‘just for a little while.’

His own personal devil had stunning green eyes, which looked at him with such guile, yet whispered the most absurd lies. He tried to eat the rice cake, but the acquisition of knowledge had always been his Achilles heel. What harm could there be in eating from the Tree of Truth?

Yet, as the chocolate dropped from his hands and his eyes were once again opened, he knew the truth. The world was vulnerable to the devil with green eyes. While on the surface it seemed handsome and sincere, the lies continued to grow in leaps and bounds.

Lex had tasted the lies of chocolate cake, and while rice cakes seemed plain, they were… healthier…and Lex wouldn’t stop until everyone knew the dangers of the devil and his chocolate.


	26. Fairy Tales (Clex)

Pamela had once told him that all proper bedtime stories began with the words Once upon a time.

 _Once upon a time, while returning to his castle, a rich young prince lost control of his very expensive coach. As the vehicle crashed through the railing of a bridge, his last thought was not of his immanent demise, but asking forgiveness for taking the life of the young…_

What?

Squire?

Perhaps. After all squires do become knights after their training. But when people thought of knights, they often thought of Gotham’s vigilante, who was often referred to as the Dark Knight.

So, no squires.

Perhaps a wizard or a wizard’s apprentice?

He paused for a moment. While the term appealed to his aesthetics and worked in several contexts, it would mean that the rest of the meteor mutants should be classified the same way too.

Of course, considering that so many of them eventually went mad, maybe they could be considered magical beasts instead of competition.

He toyed with the term prince, but there was no indication that the boy had been royalty. His earth parents were salt-of-the-earth types, while his birth parents had been scientists and members of a council. While no doubt well-to-do, it didn’t make the boy a prince.

“What’s wrong with farm boy?” Clark leaned over the back of Lex’s desk chair and rubbed the side of his face against Lex’s check. “After all, that’s what I was.”

“But farm boy is so…so…”

Clark sat on Lex’s desk and raised a speculative eyebrow.

Lex took one look at the mischievous face and sigh. “As you wish.”


	27. Invasion (Clex)

The alien invasion had been devastating. Superheroes and common men had worked feverishly side-by-side, while countries that had shared centuries of animosity pooled their resources in order to repel the Xenonians. The final battle had been especially brutal with Earth losing many of its defenders.

Superman slowly picked his way through the rubble that had once been Washington D.C., pulling out survivors in an almost distracted manner. When, at last, he found what he who he was looking for, he dropped his head in overwhelming grief and fell to his knees beside the apparently lifeless body.

“Lex?” he whispered in broken despair. “I’m so sorry, Lex. I’m so sorry.”

Blue eyes fluttered open, startling him. "Never apologize and never explain; it's a sign of weakness," Lex rasped in irritation.

“You’re alive!” Clark gently pulled the pale man out of the rubble and into his arms.

“Apparently.”

“I thought…I thought…”

“Oh, shut up and kiss me already, you overgrown Kryptonian Boy Scout.”

Clark blinked in shock, but happily complied. After all, Lex had already proven that aliens who defied the American President would eventually live to regret their insolence.


	28. Fury (Clark, Lex)

Superman stood at the entrance of the laboratory with his arms crossed over his chest. “You’ve gone too far this time, Luthor!”

“And who are you to judge how far is too far, Superprat?”

“Surely, you don’t believe this scheme of yours will work?”

Lex leaned back against his console and laughed. “Of course I do. And don’t call me Shirley.”

The Man of Steel shook his head in shock. “You’ve gone around the bend. That’s the only possible explanation.”

“Perhaps, but this time neither you or your so called Justice League can stop me.”

“I always knew your sanity was holding on by a thread, but you’ve finally gone mad.” When he got no reaction, Superman decided to take another tact. “Don’t you care what you’re doing to the people around you? Do you really hate me that much?”

A sneer grew over Lex’s face. "Yes. It’s because I am mad, I hate you. Because I am mad, I have betrayed you. And because I'm mad, I'm rejoicing in my heart, without a shred of pity, without a shred of regret!"

Clark’s eyes grew dark with fury. “So be it.”


	29. Bored (Clark, Chloe)

“Just what do you think you’re doing, Ms. Sullivan?”

Chloe held up her left hand and wiggled her fingers at her partner. “I’m painting my nails. What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Painting your nails,” Clark admitted grudgingly. But as he moved closer, his eyes widened in shock. “Is that white out?”

She grinned at him. “Yep.”

“Why?”

“Why not?”

“Ch-loe!”

Chloe graced him with a huge smile. “So is that how you pry secrets out of your sources? By whining at them?”

“Oh, ha ha.”

Snickering under her breath, she started on her right hand.

Clark sat on the edge of her desk. “Just how bored are you?”

“Incredibly.”

“The paper’s been put to bed?”

“Yup.”

“Nothing on the scanners?”

“Nada.”

“Want to go to dinner?”

“You buying?”

“Of course.”

“Okay! But give me another minute. I need to finish these last two fingers.”


	30. Prom Night (Pete)

Pete laughed aloud as he spun his dance partner onto the floor, then twirled her back and watched her blush as he felt her breasts push against his chest. God, he was having fun.

He tried not to think too much about Smallville also having its prom this night. If he could’ve found someone to take his money, he would’ve made a fortune betting on how many meteor-induced incidents took place during their Prom week and how many people Clark would have to save.

It was wonderful just to enjoy the night for what it was and not worry about being knocked unconscious...again.


	31. Quality Time (Chloe/Lex - written for 55 word challenge)

Billionaires didn’t fidget and they certainly didn’t whine, although Lex would admit he really wanted to tap his fingers against something. “Tell me again why we’re taking the train instead of the jet.”

Chloe graced her husband with an indulgent smile as she unbuttoned her blouse. “Because you wanted to spend more quality time together.”


	32. Overreacting (Clex - written for 55 word challenge)

“And just what do you expect me to do? Step away from my empire? Get some nine-to-five job that pays a pittance? Commute on the train with the rest of humanity?”

“I never said that.” Clark crossed his arms and frowned at his lover. “I just want you to skip this year’s annual villain conference?”


	33. Only Now (Chloe, Clark)

Strength.

X-ray vision.

Hearing off the charts.

Speed.

Clark’s powers were amazing, although she could’ve lived without his fire-starter impersonation.

No wonder he kept so many secrets.

Yet his unwillingness to trust her under normal circumstances still stung, especially since she figured out that Pete had known about Clark’s powers before he left Smallville. True, Pete had known Clark since kindergarten, but…

There were no buts. Clark knew that Lionel had tried to reach him by using her, knew that there was a time when she was so wounded that she had considered betraying him.

But only briefly.

When push came to shove, she couldn’t do it. Even though she had lost almost everything she considered precious, she never told anyone the secrets she knew, never gave Lionel anything useful.

While it had taken some soul searching, she finally realized that a romance between her and Clark would never happen, but maybe one day he would see her for who she truly was.


	34. Prom Queen (Chloe)

Who’d have ever thought that Chloe Sullivan could win the title of Smallville High’s Prom Queen for 2005? She certainly hadn’t. Girls like Dawn spent their whole lives dreaming of tiaras and dancing with their king. Chloe had never even given the tradition a passing thought until she had seen her picture on the poster; had never truly believed she could win. But now that she had, she felt bitter about having the moment stolen from her.

Her memories consisted of watching Clark rip the crown from her head and then dancing with Lana. Just another night...not about her.


	35. The Snow Prince (Lex, Hudson)

Lex had loved snow as a child, especially the wet, heavy kind that the Eskimos called muruaneq. Some of his fondest childhood memories were of him and Pamela building snow forts and bombarding each other with snowballs while his mother sat on the balcony and clapped her hands, delighted by their antics. The three of them would laugh until they could barely breathe, their cheeks bright red and their noses running. It had been a glorious time.

But the meteor showers changed all of that. Afterward, even though Pamela tried to coax him outside, Lex refused. One didn’t truly appreciate the protection one’s hair gave them until they didn’t have it anymore. Before Pamela could discover another way to lure him back outside, his mother had passed away and Lionel had sent his nanny into exile.

He had been content with his life within the walls that surrounded his heart until he met Hudson Kent. Within the first four months of their friendship, she managed to charm him outside on three separate occasions. He would stand uncomfortably bundled in his thickest Artctic parka while she frolicked in the snow and made angels. His heart seemed to thaw as he watched her play with childlike abandonment.

However, the lies between them became too much, the trust they once shared splintered like ice crystals and he found himself retreating back into his warm sanctuary of his tower, his heart frosting over again as he glared at the falling flakes.

There was a time when he truly believed he would never be warm again.

“Lex?”

Blinking once, he turned away from the bay window and found his wife standing behind him.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?”

“It’s snowing.”

She closed the distance between them. Her hand gently rubbed his back as she looked outside. “So it is.”

“I was thinking…”

“About?” she prompted when he fell silent.

“I was thinking I’d really like to build a snow fort.”

She laughed. “On the balcony?”

“I was thinking more like on the roof.”

Her fingers fluttered over his cheek and she turned his head until she could look into his eyes. She studied him for a moment. “When.”

“Now.”

“I’ll get our coats.”

Lex swallowed once, hard, and refused to let go of her hand.

“Lex?”

“And maybe a snow angel or two?”

“Most definitely, beloved. Most definitely.”


	36. On the Wind (Chloe/Lex - AU)

The midnight air was so crisp that it practically cut into his skin, yet also refreshing and tantalizing in a way so very few nights were anymore. On nights like this, when his lungs stretched to fill with freedom, he felt as if anything were possible.

Rolling the back of his head onto his shoulders, he found the void he was searching for in the overhead canopy, and wondered why the answers he sought always seemed to elude him.

He felt her presence behind him for nearly a full minute before she laid her hand on his back. She worried about him on nights like this, concerned that he would revert back to his youth and do something rash. Yet, she was also trying to give him space enough to enjoy this moment, even though he knew she wanted to bundle him up and usher him back to the safety of the earth.

‘Deep thoughts?’ Her fingers gently pressed the words into the muscles of his back.

He released his breath quietly and turned to face her, but instead of answering her, he cupped her cheeks in his palms and allowed himself to appreciate her beauty. Age had only enhanced what he had always found so endearing about her. Not once in all their time together did he regret his decision to give everything up for her. Seeing her so alive and vibrant made him feel like a good man; although he knew no one else, not even their allies, would concur.

She searched his face in concern. When she realized he was indulging in a moment of sap, she rolled her eyes in exasperated affection.

‘I love you, Chloe.’ He pressed each word gently into her right cheek.

‘I know,’ she pressed back.

‘There’s something in the air tonight.’ For a moment, he looked past her and at the horizon.

Tension practically exploded from her as she stood ramrod straight. ‘You promised--’

‘There are no plans--’

‘You said you’d never--’

“Chloe,” he whispered, despite the danger.

She breathed in harshly, shocked by his foolishness.

‘There is no plan,’ he tried to reassure her. ‘And if there were, we would face it side by side as we always do.’

Tears filled her eyes as she pressed her body closer to his, seeking comfort.

‘I swear,’ he pressed into her back.

She nodded to let him know that his message had been received. He hugged her tight, wishing he could keep her out of harm’s way, wishing there was a means to protect the one precious thing left to him, but also knowing he didn’t trust anyone but himself to keep her safe. Their enemy wanted her too bad and he would rather die than see her anywhere near him.

‘Let’s go under,’ she pressed.

He nodded, but as she started to pull back, he stopped her.

‘Just this once, under these stars, I want you to say my name.’

Her eyes grew wide and she emphatically shook her head.

‘Please.’

‘No, it’s too dangerous.’

“Chloe,” he whispered barely above a sigh.

They both knew their safety depended on their silence, but it had been months since he had heard her voice. Anger flashed over her face, but her features softened as their eyes met.

Sighing, she moved closer to him and stood on her toes, until her lips were right beside his ear. “I love you, Lex. Now come inside and warm me up.”

Before she could step back, he swung her up into his arms and covered her mouth with his.

Change was riding on the wind. The time would soon be upon them when they would stand strong before their former friend and take back what was rightfully theirs, but for tonight there was only her.


	37. Apathy (Lex)

Apathy was such a strange emotion. Unlike depression, it didn’t disable its victim; rather, it left their emotions in a vacant state, not unlike an unused painter’s canvas. He forced his way through each day with no one being the wiser. The world saw a successful businessman, an innovator, a man whose company was on fire with drive and zeal.

Women wanted him. Men wanted to be him. But he found himself wanting nothing. The one thing he had wanted, once upon a time, was now forever beyond his reach. His days blurred together -- hostile takeovers, brilliant international commerce solutions, money pouring in at an ungodly rate – and yet none of these things moved him.

Very little made him smile anymore and absolutely nothing penetrated the wall around his heart. He had worked his way through the five stages of grief, had even eventually stopped lashing out with his anger, much to the League’s relief. Acceptance had been a bitter pill to swallow, but swallow he did.

But standing in front of the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court, one hand laid on the Bible, he couldn’t help but think that this moment could have been a happier one.


	38. Truth (Lex)

There were days, Lex mused, when he was willing to throw himself upon the rocks of Sirenum Scopuli in order to hear Clark Kent speak the truth. He knew the Kents didn’t trust him, that despite everything he had done for them, they found him lacking.

Could the truth be so awful to bear? Was that why the citizens of Smallville stuffed their ears with wax and looked the other way when strange things happened?

Like Odysseus, Lex was willing to risk his sanity and tie himself to the mast if it meant hearing just one note of the truth.


	39. Windows (Clex)

It was a commonly held belief that eyes were actually windows to a person’s soul. The axiom was especially true when it came to one Alexander J. Luthor. Despite being one of the most feared businessmen in the world, Lex had the most expressive eyes Clark had ever seen.

Clark never had to question when he was on Lex’s bad side. The coldness Lex’s eyes were capable of rivaled Clark’s ice breath. Even though Lex rarely apologized, Clark could tell when Lex was sorry just by the regret he could see reflected back at him. Clark especially enjoyed seeing Lex’s eyes dance with laughter, especially when he was trying to maintain a stoic or professional game face.

Of all the emotions Clark had catalogued over the years, his favorite were Lex’s eyes when they made love. They always softened with surprise, as if he couldn’t quite make himself believe that Clark really did love him. Given Lex’s history, Clark could understand why he might feel like that and he did everything in his power to prove that Lex was indeed very loveable.

But no matter what they revealed, Clark loved Lex’s eyes because they made him feel cherished and human.


	40. Toes (Clex)

“Clark, what are you doing?”

“What does it feel like I’m doing?”

“It feels like you’re sucking on my toes.”

“I always knew you were a smart man.”

“Clark, why are you sucking on my toes?”

“Is there any particular reason why I shouldn’t?”

“No, it’s just that it’s…ahhh.”

“Just ahhh?”

“It’s, uh, it’s, uh…a bit…distracting.”

“I would say so, especially since you’re having trouble forming a coherent sentence.”

“You know, if you’re feeling that oral, there are other things you might suck on.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yes. But--”

“But? But what?”

“Go brush your teeth first.”

“What? Why?

“Because you were sucking on my toes, that’s why.”

“Leeeeexxxxxxxx.”


	41. Paradise Lost (Lex)

Lex watched the scotch swirl in the bottom of his crystal tumbler, even as his thoughts swirled around his head. His father had switched bodies with Clark, but only because Clark had imposed himself between them. His father had meant to switch bodies with him, had meant to imprison his only son in a dying body caged in the middle of a hellhole.

What was almost as bad was that Lionel had offered Lex the one thing he knew Lex had wanted all of his life – his love – meaning Lionel had always known and yet had purposely denied Lex his affections.

And now he was miraculously cured.

There was a time when Lex thought he might have been worth redemption, but he knew a sign when he saw it. God was rejecting him and subjecting him to hell.

Fine.

He’d rather rule hell anyway.


	42. Damn Do-Gooder Genes (Lois)

I’ve often laughed with the universe as it shared its strange sense of humor with the rest of humanity. But you see, normally I’m standing in the distance, able to appreciate the joke. This time I had the unfortunate honor of being a little closer to center stage than I usually am.

I mean, really, Adonis just happens to be in the middle of a cornfield and gets himself zapped by a freaky ass lightening bolt, burning all of his clothes off in the process, and all I had in the car was one lousy cigarette and a blanket.

God, I wanted nothing more than to suck every last gram of nicotine out of the smoke and appreciate the view but my upbringing kicked in and, of course, I felt compelled to do the right thing.

Damn do-gooder genes.

If I had known what they were growing in central Kansas, I would have weaseled an invite out of Uncle Gabe last year.

Chloe had always talked about her wall of weird and had shared some of her stranger stories with me. While I worried about her getting in over her head, I knew she was capable of taking care of herself. However, if I had any idea the depths of evil that lurked in this quaint hamlet, I would have demanded that Chloe spend some time with my dad. He might be a pain in the ass, but he would have kept her safe.

Could have. Should have. But didn’t.

No matter.

I will avenge her and I won’t rest until every single person who conspired against her is in jail or dead.

I just have to drop Adonis off at the hospital first.

Keep your eyes off the blanket and on the road, Lois.

God I want my cigarette.


	43. Crusade (Lois)

Her eyes burned with unshed tears as she watched the .mov fade to black.

Just who in the hell was this Clark Kent character anyway and why did her cousin trust him so much? Chloe hadn’t trust anyone after her mother walked out on her and Gabe. So why Clark? Her finger brushed over the play button and she watched the file spring to life again.

She frowned as she listened to her cousin practically beg Clark for justice.

Whoever he was, Chloe loved him. That much was evident. But knowing her cousin, it was probably unrequited.

No matter. Clark Kent would help her find Chloe’s killers or her name wasn’t Lois Lane.


	44. The Problem With Clark Kent (Lex)

The problem with Clark Kent is that he wouldn’t know an unadulterated truth if it smacked him right between his beautiful green eyes. Of course, he was entitled to his secrets and under no obligation to share their innermost fears and desires simply because Lex asked. But how many times could Clark use the old Indian caves as an excuse for a term paper without actually producing one?

The more Clark danced around the truth, the more attention he drew to himself. And now, Lex’s father was involved.

Lex didn’t know if he had enough power to protect Clark anymore.


	45. Buying (Chloe, Lex)

She moves with all the grace of a newborn foal struggling to find its legs. But what she lacks in physical grace, she more than makes up with her intellect and enthusiasm.

He loves watching her victims squirm as she nails their coffins closed with fact after carefully researched fact.

Their own fault really. If one was stupid enough not to clean up their messes, then they got what they deserved.

One of the things he respects the most about her, despite which newspaper she works for, is her ethics. Regardless of her history, she can’t be bought and she has never given him any slack, despite their relationship or maybe because of it.

He has also made it a habit never to lie to her, a courtesy he doesn’t always extend to other reporters. The Planet may have the reputation for being one of the best papers in the country, but the Inquisitor had the most accurate information regarding LexCorp.

Lex hoped Clark choked on the reasons why.

“Well, hey, stranger.” Her entire face brightened when she finally noticed him. “What are you doing out so late?”

“I’m playing hookey and was curious about what dive you’d discovered lately.”

He could tell his answer pleased him, but she played it off as she always did. They were always casual in public; simple friends who had met while exiled in Smallville. The alternatives were just too dangerous, and not only from competitors, but superheroes as well. “Just for that, you’re buying.”

His smile was real as he held his hand out to her. “Don’t I always?”

“Don’t make me remind you about--”

“Chloe, you promised--”

“Come on, handsome. If you feed me I might not ask about--”

Lex scoffed. “Right.”

“Well, at least not until after breakfast.”


	46. Letter from a Concerned Neighbor (Clex)

Dear Mr. Kent –

You don’t know me, but I live in your neighborhood. While I’ve always considered myself blessed to have such a quiet young man living so close, I feel it’s my duty to let you know that your blinds don’t work as well as I think you think they do. I do not point this out in an attempt to embarrass you, but rather to let you know that perhaps you should leave the lights off when you entertain guests. Considering the paparazzi that normally trail Mr. Luthor, perhaps you should invest in dark shades or heavy curtains.


	47. Resignation Letter (Clex)

Dear Mr. Luthor:

While I have had the distinct pleasure of being your chef for over a decade, I feel the time has come for us to part company.

I was willing to overlook the occasional mess in the kitchen when I came into work in the morning as I understand and appreciate matters of the heart can often lead to enthusiastic exercise. But I cannot overlook what you did to my Cappucino Chantilly au Chocolat. While I appreciate that Mr. Kent did look delicious, I must protest the wearing of my desserts.

Please accept my resignation.

Chef Pierre Roquette


	48. Reporting Live (Chloe)

You wouldn’t think that living in the quaint hamlet of Smallville would be very exciting, but you’d be wrong. Smallville, a sleepy farming community, was rudely awakened one afternoon in October 1989 as alien rocks screamed from the sky and destroyed everything in their path.

Hello, my name is Chloe Sullivan and I’m here to expose the secrets that are only hinted at in the middle of the darkest cloudiest nights when people have trouble distinguishing reality from imagination.

While it’s obvious to any semi-aware person that meteor rocks affect everyone who have had the misfortune of direct contact, very few people know that human exposure is merely the tip of the iceberg.

For reasons beyond this reporter’s ken, the major state newspapers refuse to delve too deeply into the phenomenon that is Smallville; no doubt worried about lawsuits and how a big loss could negatively affect a dying media. Which is one of the reasons I’m filming this report. After all, seeing is believing.

Take for instance, the common hummingbird, generally considered a gentle bird. But in Smallville where meteor rocks and evolution go hand-in-hand, we have hummingbirds that can not only hold their own in a fight with larger, more aggressive birds, but with feral cats as well.

I, uh, apologize for the graphicness of that last scene, but the say a picture is worth a thousand words which means footage like this is worth a Dostoevski novel.

With regard to rumors of R.O.U.S.. that’s rodents of unusual size, for you non-PB oriented folks, here in Smallville, that’s all they are. Rumors. However, like the hummingbirds, the field mice of Smallville have adapted as well.

Ouch.

One has to wonder how Smallville has any sort of feline population left.

The meteors have affected not only Smallville’s animal inhabitants, but it’s plant population as well. Take for instance this willow tree normally found around Crater Lake.

Ah, caught that modifier, did you? Yes, I did say normally.

While Harry Potter may have a Whomping Tree, here in Smallville we have an honest-to-goodness Wrestling Tree. So named because of its tendency to catch its prey in a half nelson before devouring it. For the last ten years it has been careful to hunt only wildlife.

Oops.

Um, and wild cats as well.

I’m still not totally convinced it doesn’t lure unwary travelers to lie beneath its branches. Smallville has a high number of people who were supposedly just passing through town and were never seen or heard from again. Although I think its hardly fair to lay all the blame at this particular tree’s roots. Be that as it may, no one has ever found the tree in the exact same place two days in a row. If rumors are to believed, it rambles around the Lake much like an Ent.

I see the sun is beginning to set, which is my cue to call it a wrap for today. The last thing I need is to be caught by a herd of deer. I almost didn’t survive my last encounter, although I did a lot better than Earl Johnson who was surprised to find that the deer of Smallville consider hunting a contact team sport.

This is Chloe Sullivan reporting and reminding you not to take anything at face value.


	49. Truth (Chloe)

Truth had been an obsession for Chloe ever since she had found her father in the kitchen trying to make pancakes – and failing miserably.

As she grew older Chloe came to appreciate his decision to tell her the truth. Reality may be butt ugly, but pretending to put a good face on it served no purpose.

The plain and simple fact was her mother had left them; not just her father, but her as well and neither of them understood why.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

When her father accepted the position as general manager for LuthorCorp’s number three plant, they moved from Metropolis to a quaint little berg called Smallville.

Walking down Main Street, she felt like an alien, newly arrived on a strange and slightly backward planet. The denizens all stared at her with an open curiosity that would have been considered rude in the city.

And what was with all the corn? She instantly regretted all the late night horror movies she had watched and refused to go anywhere near a cornfield for years.

Determined to fit in, she hid her anxiety behind her brashness. She knew herself well enough to know that she wasn’t cut out to be a cheerleader or even a valedictorian, but she was determined to find her niche.

When the principal assigned her a guide, one Clark Jerome Kent by name, to show her around the school, she thought she had died and gone to heaven. Clark towered over her physically, but seemed incapable of lifting his head long enough for her to determine the color of his eyes. His shy, gentle dorkiness intrigued her. In a move that surprised even her, she kissed him at the end of the day. She told him that she knew he’d been thinking about kissing her all day long and this way they could get it out of the way and become friends – which they did.

In ninth grade, Chloe discovered journalism, a profession devoted to the discovery of truth.

At last, she had found her destiny.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

As one school year merged into another Chloe discovered that truth, while often exhilarating was painful as well.

When puberty hit, she discovered that if one was determined enough one could ignore the truth, if only for a little while. But as self-delusion wasn’t really her thing, she finally accepted the fact that she would never have Clark’s heart. Oh, he loved her, of that she had no doubt, but his feeling for her would never rival what he felt for Lana. While painful, she accepted it. After all, hadn’t her mother taught her that some people didn’t get everything they wanted in life?

The flip side to pursuing truth was that sometimes one simply wasn’t destined to discover it or, if one was able to unearth it that it might be more layered than was expected and too complex to understand without help.

Take the Wall of Weird. Its mere existence had gotten her labeled as a freak. She didn’t care though, because she knew the truth – the meteors that had blanketed Lowell County had affected the lives of everyone exposed to the rock. She only wished she knew to what extent.

Over the years, she became convinced that Clark was a meteor mutant. He had an uncanny ability to always be in the middle of the action, no matter how dangerous it might be. If she had been the jealous type, she would have turned green over his ability to be in the know. Somehow he always seemed to know things that no one else did. Although she restrained her resentfulness due to the fact he always seemed to show up just in the nick of time to pull her bacon out of the fire.

While his gifts intrigued her, he was a friend and she was determined never to exploit him or his abilities, although his refusal to tell her the truth ate away at her. Why couldn’t he trust her? Time and time again, she looked the other way for the sake of their friendship – until one evening in the depths of despair she made the worst mistake of her life.

She made a pact with the devil.

She regretted it almost as soon as the deal had been struck, but couldn’t figure out a way to back out of the pact without her father suffering the consequences. She spent months feeding Lionel minimal information and laying as many false trails away from Clark as she could. Even when Clark ran away to Metropolis, she kept his secret, not only to keep him safe, but in an effort to lure him back home as well.

Clark knew about her obsession with the truth and while it caused several arguments between them, their friendship had always managed to somehow miraculously survive.

When she decided to take a stand against Lionel, not only for Clark’s sake, but her own as well, Lionel’s retribution had been swift and severe. Her father had surprised her. Instead of being upset, he was proud of her strength and happy she had finally decided to share her burden with him.

It was during this time she discovered that truth could also hurt, physically. After being exposed to a substance that made everyone around her tell the truth, she learned that Lana didn’t trust her. After everything they had faced together, Lana turned her back on Chloe and her father, even refusing to sell them the Talon, despite her knowing that Lionel was blackballing Chloe’s father and that they were on the verge of losing their home.

Shortly after Lana’s revelation, Chloe found herself sitting in the ruined ashes of a supposed safe house. Cradled her father’s lifeless body to her chest, she came to understand that truth was not only a powerful force, but a destructive one as well.

When, finally, she rose to her feet, she vowed that everyone she knew would come to understand the full power of the truth as well.


	50. The Journey (Lex)

Once, a lifetime ago, Lex had told a dying boy that living in darkness was not caused by a single flip of the switch; instead, it was a journey that started with a single step. Looking back over his life, Lex knew this to be true.

If he had to pinpoint an event that had started him on his own path, he would say his journey began the moment he accepted responsibility for his brother’s death. The malice he had saved his mother from enduring had been redirected at him in force. Over time it had seeped into practically every aspect of his life until he no longer believed the light existed. The following years gave witness to his mad dash toward self-destruction, which he embraced with a zestfulness that shocked his compatriots, even as they cheered him onward.

Then one chilly October afternoon when his journey should have reached a crescendo into the final darkness, he discovered that light did indeed exist outside his normal boundaries. The joy that filled him as he reveled in the light made him believe in the possibilities of miracles and destinies.

But over time, his luminosity began to fade as those in the light edged away from the darkness of his past. And even though he reached for the light again and again, he could not capture its rays and the light slipped between his fingers and disappeared until once again he found himself cradled in the bosom of darkness.

Realizing that no matter how hard he tried to escape, his destiny was indeed to be one of darkness, so he embraced it. He opened himself to the anger, the resentment, and the power that night holds.

That should have been the end of the story.

But it wasn’t.

For he was constantly being tormented by an angel of light.

He hated the angel with every ounce of his being, even as he yearned for it. It was a reminder of everything he could have been, could have had if only he had been deemed worthy.

He made the decision that the angel must be destroyed, but no matter how many times he caught the creature, he couldn’t bring himself to completely snuff out its light; so he contented himself with plunking its wings from time to time.

At night, he was besieged by dreams so vivid, so real that he could still taste them on his lips the following morning when he awoke.

While the dreams varied, the content remained essentially the same. He would awake to find the angel standing beside his bed, watching him. He often wondered why he didn’t shout at the angel or send it away, but rationalized that being angry in a dream served no purpose. He speculated that the being of light represented something deep within his subconscious, even though he had no clue as to what it might be.

What surprised him was that he always reached for the angel.

Always.

No matter if he had plucked its wings earlier in the day or not.

In his dreams, the angel always worshipped him. Its warm lips would map every inch of his body and delve into places few had dared. Large hands would prepare him and hold him while the angel filled him over and over again until he cried out with his own praise. And when he was finally spent, the angel would hold him in its arms and whisper that he was loved.

Loved.

Odd, how such a simple statement could lighten the darkness.

As the years passed, the darkness seemed to lose its intensity and on occasion he could even make out hues like blue, yellow and red. He hadn’t realized how much he had missed colors until they started making unexpected appearances in his life again.

Finally, the day came when he woke up and walked out onto his balcony and noticed that the sun was shining brightly in the sky. He turned to find the angel, dressed only in a pair of worn jeans, laying rather debauched on his chaise lounge; and it was then that he realized that the journey into the light didn’t happen by a flick of the switch, but was a journey as well.


End file.
